


After The Game Comes The Prize

by Cornbread5287



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Mostly Fluff, Non-birthday present birthday present, Not a ton of plot, everyone is a little shit, seriously basically just fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-16
Updated: 2016-09-16
Packaged: 2018-08-15 07:13:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8047207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cornbread5287/pseuds/Cornbread5287
Summary: This was written in like 20 minutes and then left alone for a month. Now I'm posting it and it totally is NOT a birthday present for Skarlatha, one of my best friends ever. 
Beta'd by the amazing bennyhatter.





	After The Game Comes The Prize

**Author's Note:**

  * For [skarlatha](https://archiveofourown.org/users/skarlatha/gifts).



“Hey, Daryl?”

“Hngn?” The redneck grunted, jerking awake on the couch as Carl patted his arm.

“Remember how you promised to play with me after lunch if I let you nap for one hour?”

“Yeah, kid,” Daryl mumbled, rubbing his eyes with one hand and sitting up.

“Daddy said it’s been an hour and seven minutes. I gave you bonus time because you were so sleepy,” Carl said, nearly vibrating with excitement. Daryl glanced over at Rick, who was leaning against the door frame hiding a smirk behind a glass of sweet tea.

“Meet you outside,” he said gruffly, ruffling Carl’s hair. The eleven year old nodded and bounded out of the room excitedly.

“He’s teaching you to play soccer,” Rick grinned as soon as Carl was out the front door. “Made me set up his practice goal and everything. He’s pretty excited.”

“I can see that,” Daryl smirked as he stood up and stretched. He walked lazily over to Rick, taking his glass of tea and draining the last few swallows.

“Jerk,” Rick said without any heat behind it. Daryl just handed his glass back and headed outside for Carl. Rick snagged the pitcher of tea off the counter, pouring himself another glass before following.

“Daryl, shouldn’t you be wearing shorts?” Carl asked as Daryl stepped out of the front door.

“Yeah, Daryl, shouldn’t you?” Rick smirked.

“Shut your whore mouth, Rick,” Daryl mumbled low so Carl wouldn’t hear, shooting Rick a mock glare before turning to look at Carl.

“Ain’t got none. Can I just play in jeans?”

“Sure! Okay, since I play soccer at school now, I’m gunna teach you how to play!” The boy’s chest puffed out with pride, his eyes bright. Daryl’s heart melted a little before he got a grip on himself and nodded.

“Go over there and I’ll kick it to you,” Carl commanded, pointing to the plastic goal Rick had set up. “You stop it from going in, then you kick it but you gotta hold it and drop it and kick it before it hits the ground, you can’t kick it like I do. Okay?”

Daryl nodded again, biting back a smile at how excited the kid was. He glanced at Rick, who had taken a seat on the porch steps to watch.

He took his place in front of the goal, keeping his eyes on Rick. The other man smiled at him, wiggling his fingers a little in a stupid little wave that made Daryl ridiculously happy.

Until he took a soccer ball straight to the gut.

“Sorry, Daryl! I’m sorry!” Carl yelled.

“S’okay,” he replied hoarsely, waving off his apology. Rick was laughing, hard, his cheeks red and his eyes on Daryl.

“DID YOU DO THAT ON PURPOSE, RICK?”

“No idea what you’re talking about,” Rick laughed. Daryl shook his head, tossing the ball back to Carl.

“Let’s try that again, yeah?”

The boy nodded, placing the ball in the grass and backing up, taking aim with his tongue sticking out of the side of his mouth. He ran and kicked the ball, but this time, Daryl saw it coming and plucked it out of the air, just before it hit him.

“Good job, Daryl! Now you gotta hold it like this,” Carl mimed, holding his arms out. “Then you just drop it and kick it before it hits the ground.”

“Will do, kiddo,” Daryl grinned. Holding out the ball he took a step and dropped it, sending it sailing right at Rick’s smirking face.

“ _Shit!”_ Rick yelled, jumping out of the way. The ball missed him, but his glass full of cold sweet tea did not. He glared at Daryl, his shirt dripping wet. “You piece of—“

“Careful ‘bout your language, Rick,” Daryl said calmly, his face smug. Rick’s expression turned thoughtful for a moment before an evil little grin spread across his features.

“While you two finish playing, I’ll go inside and throw this in the washer. I don’t really have any more shirts clean so I’ll just stay in there. On the bed. Since I won’t have a shirt on.”

“Okie dokie, dad. We still get to play until an hour is up,” Carl said, already going to retrieve the ball.

Daryl bit his lip, glaring at Rick. The image of Rick stripping down and laying on their bed did exactly what he’d hoped for, and now Daryl was going to have to stay out in the hot sun for another forty-five minutes _at least_ before he could do anything about it.

After an agonizingly slow hour of “You’re getting the hang of it” and “I’ll go get it, Daryl, and we can try again!” Daryl finally talked Carl into going inside. He got the boy some cold tea and sat him on the couch with a movie before going to find Rick.

He slid into the open door of their bedroom, unbuttoning his sweat-soaked shirt and peeling it off. He snorted when he saw Rick.

He was lying on the bed, naked except for Daryl’s pillow covering his crotch.

“I was _trying_ to be sexy,” Rick pouted at Daryl’s laugh.

“Always are,” Daryl mumbled, kicking off his shoes. “Been like that the whole time?”

“Nah, watched y’all out the window. Just did all this when you started inside.”

Daryl crawled into bed, pressing his chest to Rick’s and capturing his mouth in a warm, wet kiss. Rick responded, his hand running through Daryl’s damp hair before trailing down his side to his belt, sending shivers down his spine.

“You know, you’d look pretty hot in a coach’s uniform,” Rick whispered, slowly tugging Daryl’s jeans open.

“You’d look pretty hot if you shut up and let me fuck you,” Daryl smirked back. Rick grinned widely.

“Done.”


End file.
